


(Love is) Every Song in Every Key

by redcurlzbychoice



Series: (From the Earth below to the Heavens above) That‘s how Far and Funny is Love [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Being Loved by The Ones That Really Count, Crowley’s Bedroom, Crowley’s Dessert, Crowley’s London Flat, Declarations Of Love, Fluff and Smut, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Linguistic Revelations, Love Confessions, M/M, Missing Scene, No beta we fall like Crowley, Poetic Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Scene: The Bus Ride (Good Omens), Smut, That bus scene, The Meaning of the Prophecy, angst that will eventually have a happy ending, first time blow job, first time lovers, hopefully, sensual smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcurlzbychoice/pseuds/redcurlzbychoice
Summary: “Dear, the deluge these corporations leak?“ Aziraphale kept on tutting, bending forward to place a kiss that made Crowley wriggle with surprise and laughter once more.“If wreckin‘ me‘s the plan, my sweet darling, you’re on a right-eous path indeed”, Crowley smiled, not even trying to disguise the expectant undertone.“Fuck righteousness, dear. I resigned.” The angel pierced him with his gaze, with arrows stolen from Cupid himself. “I think“, he continued, dreamily licking his fingers and lips with an appreciative sigh , “Iamin debt with you for dessert. Or would you prefer a main course, my love?“ he asked coyly, nonchalantly snapping his fingers, cleaning the traces of their feast before indulging in his next amuse geule.Crowley’s lips danced a twist of a smirk, and he pulled himself in, nearer once more to his Angel.Midway though he froze.“Aziraphale, what...? - Look at me!“* * * * * * *Getting into the meaning of that last prophecy, finally. Though there are some more revelations to be had. Actually, a lot more revelations to be had.And Crowley’s serving of dessert comes up to be satisfying, indeed.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: (From the Earth below to the Heavens above) That‘s how Far and Funny is Love [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535789
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	(Love is) Every Song in Every Key

**Author's Note:**

> Part 9 of yet another author’s venture on that bus scene post-Armageddon and what will follow...  
> Titles by courtesy of the unrivalled Mr. Freddie Mercury. May he party in peace.
> 
> (OMWhatever, with this part I‘ve posted more than 50k within the last year. Who would‘ve ever thought of that in June 2019? Who would‘ve ever thought of 2020 becoming what it did? Life‘s ineffable, that‘s the only truth certain.)  
> .  
> ((If you care to read a short crack fic on a hilarious specimen of _ineffable reality_ for a change, please check out that last work of mine on Team Trump’s cringy last ‘big press conference‘ in the trite parking lot of a Philly landscaping firm, next to an adult bookshop and a crematorium, exactly as the final call came through that he’s lost. Really, no human brain could ever make up stuff like that.))  
> .  
> But now, fluff, revelations and a topping of smut for dessert.

.

“Crowley?“ Aziraphale hummed, his head resting on Crowley‘s chest, his lips leisurely nuzzling the soft skin where neck became shoulder. “Y’re ok?” 

“Hmmmmnh, marvellous. Spectacularly fabulous.“ Crowley’s fingertips drew languid circles along Aziraphale’s back, eyes still closed tranquilly, the fascination to be able to _feel_ his Angel like this surpassing his longing to look at him. Nor were any eyes needed for him to be sure his own face was being lit up with the widest, most blithe smile of six millennia. 

“We made it. Angel, we’re alive! Actually, never felt more alive.” He moaned pleasurably, eventually starting to blink one eye lazily open. Only to abruptly press it shut again. “Aziraphale!” Through a new surge of blissful laughter he tried to cohere some words. “I s’ppose there’s no way of turning down that blazing supernova glare of yours, is it?”

His hands searched for Aziraphale’s face, and when he found it, his lips went searching for Aziraphale’s, and then he cared even less that he had no sight yet, as the feeling of these lips freely indulging into his own was sensation enough to comprehend for his spent corporation. 

“Oh dear, I guess there‘s no fuckin‘ way!“ Aziraphale responded giddily, some time later, when they were satisfied once more with the tingle of their lips and tongues entwined. “Might find a way, ‘d say, but surely not while I’m still so much into you, my love!” 

Crowley couldn’t help, his eyes flew open, he stared at Aziraphale for one moment, winced, and pressed them shut again. 

“Can’t say such a thing, Angel, you’ll wreck me completely!” 

“Oh, jolly good, as wrecking you was the plan for tonight, I had hoped.” Aziraphale looked at his debauched Demon, and his smile radiated off him in waves Crowley could perceive with eyes closed. 

“Wait. This’ll help.” The angel snuggled himself up a little higher on Crowley’s body and gently kissed his eyelids, one by one, breathing a small blessing onto them as well. “Here, my love, that’ll do.” 

Crowley blinked a few times, and how on earth could his grin spread even more on drinking in the sight of Aziraphale’s flushed face, his tousled whiteblonde curls, his loving gaze, clear for him to see now in all their angelic splendour. 

“Ngggk!”, he moaned though, as this little motion caused parts of their bodies to drift apart, and to make up for it he engulfed Aziraphale in an even tighter embrace and showered his Beloved’s face with tiny kisses all over.

“Oh you insatiable serpent!”, Aziraphale tutted back, without a hint of indignation, and happily let his face and hands be covered with more kisses, until Crowley let him go at last, only to drink in the sight of his Angel lying by his side, head propped up, skin gleaming with sweat and that celestial golden glow. His own skin suddenly shuddered, being deprived of Aziraphale’s weight and warmth, but he was lit up from his innermost, as if the light and heat of the angel had nestled inside of him. A feeling which only grew when Aziraphale started to caress him with his free hand, sending sparks and heatwaves everywhere by combing through his hair, barely touching his tattoo (“Angel, careful! That‘s sen... Mmmh, Angel!“), teasing his chest and sweeping his ruffled belly.

“Dear, the deluge these corporations leak?“ Aziraphale kept on tutting, bending forward to place a kiss that made Crowley wriggle with surprise and laughter once more.

“If wreckin‘ me‘s the plan, my sweet darling, you’re on a right-eous path indeed”, Crowley smiled, not even trying to disguise the expectant undertone. 

“Fuck righteousness, dear. I resigned.” The angel pierced him with his gaze, with arrows stolen from Cupid himself. “I think“, he continued, dreamily licking his fingers and lips with an appreciative sigh , “I _am_ in debt with you for dessert. Or would you prefer a main course, my love?“ he asked coyly, nonchalantly snapping his fingers, cleaning the traces of their feast before indulging in his next amuse geule, while adapting his most innocent puppy smile at Crowley.

Crowley’s lips danced a twist of a smirk, and he pulled himself in, nearer once more to his Angel.

Midway though he froze.

“Aziraphale, what...? - Look at me!“ 

The angel did, startled by his tone, nothing playful anymore, but genuinely alarmed. 

“Aziraphale, there‘s something - strange, with your eyes. Different. They - they -“ Crowley scrutinised his Angel’s face. “They’re - There’s gold in ‘em, a yellow-golden spark.”

Aziraphale froze, wide eyed and confused, returning his gaze, starting to blink hard in astonishment himself. 

“Crowley, ehm, there’s some tiny - blueish, ngk, freckles, in yours, as well, I‘d say.“

In stunned silence they kept staring, surveying each other, the dawn of enlightenment reaching out for them with gentle fingers. 

“Aziraphale, you‘ve _never_ said ‘Ngk’ in the whole of your existence, ‘m sure”, Crowley gasped, his voice hardly a whisper.

“Would’ve never thought you even capable of words like ‘sweet darling’, to be fair, dear.”

“Uurgh, yeah, can't believe I just said that!“ Crowley shuddered, the happy smile sneaking back onto his lips simultaneously. “It’s accurate though, you _are_ my sweetest darling boy.” His mouth and eyes congealed in motion, his body rigid, - “Angel, what the fuck’s going on here?” 

“‘m not sure myself. It’s - I’m ...“ The angel lifted his hand to touch Crowley’s demonic tattoo once more, and both felt fiery heat rushing through their corporations. “When we - when we _loved_ each other just now, did you- in the desert -“

“What? That was for _real_? The - the desert and -“

“Dear, _you_ are the one who’s stopping time, aren’t you? I thought it were of your making ...?”

“I thought, it was just me and, well, a -“ Crowley felt himself blushing, fuckin’ genuinely flushing crimson, “- pretty mind blowing orgasm, and -“

“My, it indeed was a - mind blowing, - I’d say, rather mind expanding - quite likely even transcendent - experience.” The angel beamed at his Love. “Crowley, do you understand - well, not pretending that I’d understand, really.” 

He reached out for Crowley, and their fingers interlaced, sending glimmers and sparks up their arms, into their hearts and deepest layers of existence.  


“I _think_ , we came together - oh, stop that smug smirk, sweetheart!” Crowley’s grin spread even wider, witnessing its twin twitching in Aziraphale’s eyes. “Ah, well, if it pleases you that much - ,“ The roll of his eyes only gave testimony to yet another surge of love. “When we came together just now, I think we somehow came _to be_ together. Didn’t it feel for you as well as if we’d truly became one? As if we had found our complementing halves?”

“You mean, like that Platonian nonsense about these wheely humans?”

“Maybe it wasn’t _all_ nonsense after all. That man truly was gifted with an unique insight towards the world. Didn’t he write that reunited these humans might question the Gods? Crowley!” the angel exclaimed, “what if he’s been right? What if we _do_ share an inner core now, somehow. If heaven or hell -“ His body trembled with a sudden shiver, which spread to Crowley’s, and they embraced, holding each other close, comforting each other, their love a shield against any adversary. “Even if they’ll come for us, how if you’ll be a part of me, and me of you, how if we’ll never again be on our own. If under this outside layer of skin, you’ll be with me, if under this facade of a corpora-“

“ANGEL!!!” Crowley jolted. He lept, no, he rocketed up onto his feet, towering above Aziraphale, crying out in utter agitation. 

“ANGEL!!! Facade!!! Face!!! Faces!!! ANGEL!!! What the fuck, Angel, Agnes’ been right all along! Fuck, Angel!” 

Crowley laughed, a roar and a giggle, cracking up with laughter, pulling up his stunned Angel with him, hugging him, dancing with him on the wobbly bedspread, until he collapsed with his still startled Angel onto the bed again, gasping and panting, his eyes blown wide, a tiny freckle of blue swaying in the sea of gold. 

“Aziraphale, you get it?” 

Crowley just barely could restrain himself from gripping his Angel by the shoulders, so he gripped him tight all over, embraced him and let his own shaking body be eased by Aziraphale’s. 

“Angel, Agnes’ last prophecy? That ‘Choose your faces wisely’ thing?”

“Uhuummm?” The angel responded not very cleverly, but clearly anxious to share into his Demon’s revelations. “How do you - What do you - ?”

“Faces, facades, Angel, it’s the same! Same etymology. Same root. Same meaning. Just the outer layer. It‘s not about choosing faces, it’s about to choose -“ He broke the hug, to look into his Angel’s eyes, chuckling happily at the speck of gold adorning the blue, so novel, so beautiful, so much a sign of their renewed existence, “I - I think she meant to tell you you’re free to choose your outside corporation freely. You could - maybe you could even become me. Because we’re on the inside the same. You - we - wouldn’t even need to possess each other. We’re one. Well, not exactly one, but enough. Enough to deceive heaven and hell, if they don’t look too closely. Maybe even enough to ...“

He scanned the room. “Where’s that prophecy? We need to read up on it. - oh, fuck, still can’t believe I’m saying things like that!”

“Hmm, you even used ‘etymology’ correctly, dear”, Aziraphale couldn’t help teasing. 

Crowley nodded vigorously. 

„This is the strangest thing that’s ever happened. You, me, what’s this meant to be?“

„Well, dear, we‘re bound to find out. Only thing I’m pretty sure about is there’s surely never been a precedent. Let me just fetch that prophecy, it‘ll be in my waistcoat pocket, ‘m sure.” 

The angel placed a fond kiss on Crowley’s brow and rushed, still stark naked, to the little pile on a chest of drawers to the left, where his clothing had conveniently rematerialised (Crowley’s were still scattered atoms in the firmament), leaving the giddy demon enough opportunity to marvel at his Angel’s body, the swelling of his buttocks, the plush softness of his thighs and his skin, this deceiving layer concealing his angelic strength. He watched his Angel as he searched his pockets (showing off his admirable rear rather languidly during the process for Crowley to appreciate), and with a pleased hum the angel returned to the bed and Crowley’s arms, excitedly waggling the singed piece of paper. 

“‘ _When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choofe your faces wisely, for soon enouff you will be playing with fyre._ ’”, Aziraphale read aloud. “Dear me, I do not miss those day’s spelling.”

“Not that it makes more sense nowadays”, Crowley remarked, not able to fully stifle a content smile. 

“Crowley! All these pitiful schoolchildren! All the foreigners!”

“Yeah, weeellll”, Crowley squirmed under this well known glare, “grammer’s pretty easy at start, hmmnw?”

“Still, Crowley!” he was affectionately reprimanded, and Crowley knew he’d never cease basking in Aziraphale’s sly admonitions.

“‘ _When alle is fayed and all is done,..._ ’ - I’d say that could - should be The End Of Days That Didn’t Come this afternoon, wouldn’t you, love?” Aziraphale returned to their more ardent scrutiny. “‘ _... ye must choofe your faces wisely, for soon enouff you will be playing with fyre._ ’”

“‘ _Soon enouff you will be playing with fyre._ ,’” Crowley repeated, frowning. “Aziraphale, do you remember if that term was used as an idiom in Agnes’s days already? - Oh, fuck’s sake, how do I keep saying things like that?” 

He was reciprocated with a most generous affectionate smile. “Dearest, be assured, I still will be able and definitely most willing to put up with you indefinitely, even if you should propagate linguistic ingenuities on a more regular basis. Especially if you should deliver them dressed like this.“ 

Aziraphale gave his Demon a besotted once-over, and with a sigh he continued. 

“The question is rather indicated indeed. What _did_ Agnes see? She has been _very_ accurate before.” He shuddered, remembering the circumstances of an insult she’d spat at him from the past. 

“You got the prophecy, it’s addressed to you.”

“Hmmh, she addressed me rather directly before,“ Aziraphale said with the frown clearly ringing in his words, causing Crowley to raise his eyebrow. “Although, if I do remember correctly, ‘ye’ and ‘you’- “

“ - were used as the _plural_ of the second person!” Crowley cut in excitedly and both finished the sentence in agitated unison.

They stared at each other for a moment, and another revelation dawned upon them.

“That last prophecy, ’s not meant for you alone. She - Agnes saw you paired with someone, Aziraphale. With me. You got the prophecy, but it’s _always_ been addressed to _us_.”

“Crowley, if you got her right on that ‘faces’ thing,” Aziraphale picked up on his thoughts, “you probably were right also that ‘ _we_ ’d have to choose _our_ faces wisely’.”

“You mean, she’d known all along that we’d become more than mere, ngk, collaborating adversaries?” Crowley’s heart went out to his Angel, who returned his smirk with a shrug of his adorable, soft and strong shoulders and a shy yet utterly smitten smile. 

“I guess that’s what it might imply, indeed.” The angel blushed adorably. “I have to admit, though, that I feel rather, well, observed.”

“You have been observed for thousands of years, Angel,” Crowley pointed out, which earned him a piqued look. 

“Not by a _human_ , Crowley, that’s _different_. I feel - naked.”

Crowley chuckled a besotted giggle. “If I might remind you, Angel, you indeed _are_ naked right now, and I’m not to complain.”  
He took Aziraphale’s hand in his own, held it close to his heart, absorbed in these sensations, while the fingertips of his free hand worked their way slowly up his Angel’s wrists and arms, curved these admirable shoulders and came to rest on top of his Love’s heart. 

“Aziraphale,” he said softly, “if Agnes knew, someone else knew, too, and ...” His voice dropped to a whisper, a mere breath. “...approved.” 

He let his head sink forward, and their foreheads touched, sharing a breath, sharing this new revelation. 

“We haven’t been turned into salty pillars yet, that’s true,” Aziraphale said, and Crowley heard the quiver in his voice, of course he did. 

“No, and I haven’t burnt nor smelted, although I dared to touch the holy tonight.”

“You did a fair bit more than just touch, my love.” 

“You weren’t exactly idling yourself.“ He felt his Angel starting to smile again, and he drew back, only to look at him, to take in this look of renewed confidence in being accepted by the only ones that really counted. 

“Aziraphale, you are deeply loved, you know this?“ Crowley said, and his voice broke, and he didn’t care. He held his breath, waiting for an answer. 

It felt like eternity, until the angel barely moved his head in a minuscule nod. Another eternity, until he lifted his gaze to Crowley’s. 

“And you are truly and deeply loved, as well, my beautiful Demon, and - it doesn’t matter if  you are forgiven.”

“Don’t, Aziraphale. Don’t mock me.” Crowley’s voice, broken and hoarse, cracked even more. 

“It’s true, my love, would I be able to love you this much if it weren’t true?” Aziraphale beamed. “Would _you_ be able to love me this much, if it weren’t true?” He laughed happily, the full impact of Agnes’ prophecy slowly unfurling in his mind. “I am what I am, and you are what you are, and - and that’s enough. That’s all we need to be.”

“I surely wouldn’t be me without you, Angel.”

“And me most definitely not myself if it weren’t for this incredible, exhaustingly attached demon to tempt and offer me the choices of my existence.”

“Ngmpfh” was all Crowley would master at that, though Aziraphale observed the hue of crimson and the crooked smile stealing back on his face with another staggering surge of love. 

“Crowley, what if, y’know,” he waved vaguely towards the ceiling, “what if all of this was planned, like this, also, all along? From the very beginning?”

Crowley gasped, grasping what Aziraphale had said, and couldn’t help smiling himself. 

“Would’nt put it past Her, that ineffable b...eing. Weirdest sense of humour, to tell us now that we’re ok. Together. In - _love_.” He spoke the word with reverence, as if he still wouldn’t believe it could apply to him.

Aziraphale moved in even closer, embracing his Demon, his other hand still caught between their hearts.

“It is ‘moving in mysterious ways’ indeed to tell us now that our love has been forseen for hundreds of years. ‘Ineffable plan’!”, he snorted. “Ineffable indeed!”

“Aziraphale, do tell me, did you fathom any of this when you came up with that talk about the ‘ineffable plan’ on the airfield?” Crowley asked in his novel soft voice. 

“Oh, fuck, Crowley, of course I didn’t! I sensed _something_ , and I sensed that it would throw these hellbent-on-war prickheads off course, but I never - I thought it _was_ about love, indeed, God’s love for Her creation, and us being part of this love, but I would’ve _never_ thought it was so _much_ about _us_ as well. About _our_ love. I thought it was ok for me to love you, finally. But I quite definitely never fathomed Agnes as our - postillion d‘amour.“ He chuckled, and Crowley felt him relaxing, and his own head came to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder, and he breathed in deeply, this whiff of aziraphalic scent, overwhelming and wonderful and glorious so near to his skin. 

Thus they stayed, their bodies entwined, their breaths shared, their flesh and soul exchanging atoms and energy and certainty. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley broke their haven sometime later, his fingers tingling with the verve conceived by absorbing Aziraphale’s heartbeat, his warmth and their conjoined energy. “If all of this was planned all along, wouldn’t it be an utter waste to let us perish in the wrath of these prickheads later?”

Aziraphale sighed deeply. “So it seems. Aaaah, ineffable plans! But I do dare to believe this prophecy might offer some thread to lead us to redemption, still.”

“Mnnghk, it better should, no walk in the park to face the forces of heaven and hell in their united wrath against us. Remember Gabriel’s face when he had to call off the war? That archhole’ll want revenge.”

“He truly was pissed off ever since the Protestants started to question _him_ being in charge, and we made him look _really_ ridiculous today. He‘s not going to forget that, ever.“

“Beelz’s surely not pleased, also, and you haven’t even seen Hastur’s glare.“

“Who’s? What did you do to Has-?“

“Demon. Duke of Hell. Killed his partner with the holy water. Remember, that goo on the doorstep?”

Aziraphale wiggled his head. “Well, I couldn’t blame him then, not really. I for my money ‘d soak any demon who came for you in holy water, to be sure!”

Crowley couldn’t stifle a small proud smile for his Angel, whose eyes flamed like his givenaway sword, and he marvelled once more at his choice of words and the reflection of a golden flare in the piercing blue eyes. 

“Gabriel would want you not only punished, but destroyed,” the demon at last sighed with a tired, broken voice. “Eradicated from the earth. To eradicate the memory of his defeat. Prick!“

He clutched Aziraphale’s hand as if the angel were the saviour to his very existence (he was, he was), until Aziraphale found the courage to speak out their mutual fears.

“So, what do you think it will be, when they come for us?“

“Ngk, prophecy says ‘ _fyre_ ’. Won’t work on me, though. Really, demons are unimaginative as hell. Hastur at least would like to see me burn, in holy water. Annihilated as Ligur was. No way for ‘em to get hold of holy water though? So, it’ll probably be just an eternity in the deepest pit of hell.”

“Crowley, don’t, that’s - oh, Crowley, I don’t dare to even think about that.” Aziraphale shuddered, embracing his beloved Demon with even more fervour. Crowley melted into the touch, clung on to his Angel, who, with a face carved out of cold marble, continued.  
“You could just as well say unimaginative as heaven. They’ll want to see me destroyed, and the easiest would be fyre, as Agnes said, hellfire. But, again, how should they be able to obtain anything hellish as that?”

“For my money, they got some back channels running for quite some time. Always had a feeling that stickler Michael wasn’t exactly playing by the rules.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, frowning. “You know, you probably hit a spot there. Michael, for being an angel, always knew a bit too much.”

“Mmmh, that’s probably why some humans with brains less fogged by incense believed them, and not Gabriel, to be in charge up there. Speaking of Gabe, he seemed to get along pretty well with Lord Beelz.”

Now Aziraphale frowned, and shivered. 

“So, Crowley, do you believe in hellfire and holy water to be our punishment?”

Crowley looked at him, trying in vain to disguise his fear of losing his Angel. “There’s only one thing I truly believe in right now, and that’s you and me, Angel, and us being together. We are - coupled, somehow, m’sweet, and we got that prophecy, there’s bound to be a way to get through this together,“ he said, trying to convince himself as much as his Angel of them standing a chance, unaware of the slip of tongue proving his point. 

Aziraphale pulled his hand free from in between their chests, only to embrace his beloved Demon even tighter, and Crowley was more than responsive. “Darling, I agree. There must be a way. Some loophole. Everything else - I couldn’t bear it. Not now. Not now that we know how we feel. How we love. Not now that I know how _you_ feel.”

“Angel!” The demon pretended to be shocked, as, regardless of all their anxiety, there had been an unmistakable excursion of a palm towards his buttocks. It felt good. It felt warm, reassuring, like all of his Angel in his arms and around him. It felt like salvation, the resting place the restless serpent had so, so longed for. It felt so good to bathe in Aziraphale’s love, to delve into his, into their _want_ , and he longed for the future to go on and on like this. They had shared their innermosts. They hardly had let go of each other since, and Crowley in this moment felt audaciously confident, that he’d never walk a single step, anymore, anywhere, without the Angel by his side, without this feeling of his Angel nestled into his arms, without his Angel nestled into his very soul. They were, more than ever - what did the humans call it? - He started to chuckle, causing Aziraphale to look at him startled once more. 

“Crowley?”

“Aziraphale, y’know, what we did, how we _loved_ , what we became? The humans got a word for it: soulmate.”

“Soulmate? You mean...?”

“Yeah, uh, our souls kind of mingled, and we’re surely mated, and now we are somewhat one of a kind.” His face twitched into a broad grin, and he started to laugh again, silly, exuberant, happy. “‘m pretty sure the humans didn’t mean it that way, but - ppphsht, we’re not human! We’re an angel and a demon, and together - our bodies and our beings - _together_ maybe we’ll even be able to stand - because there’s just so much of me in you and of you in me - maybe even we’ll be able to repel or sustain or - dunno - hellfire and holy water, because we’ve been immersed into each other.” Between his chuckles he couldn’t help a smirk twinkling in his eyes again. “And might immerse maybe another time, what’d‘y‘ think, Angel?” 

“That would be marvellous, dear. Although I’d have rather hoped for more than just _one single_ more time, darling”, Aziraphale remarked drily, though there was no chance of hiding his excitement. On his face hope tussled with relief and determination, and an absolutely novel trait of mischief. 

Crowley grinned even more elatedly. “Well, my love, we’ll see to that, plenty, ‘m sure.”

“No, my dear, so sorry to object.” 

Crowley looked at his Angel and witnessed a new Aziraphale moulting, leaving the old skin of fear and incorporated obedience behind. His Angel’s voice had never before assumed authority so instinctively.

“It rather seems to be _my_ turn to see to that. Now, didn’t I offer you another course of our glorious feast tonight? I think I’m rather up for it, love, if I may?”

Crowley searched the angel’s face for apprehension, and didn’t find a single trace left. 

“Angel, whoa, what? We just came up with an idea to - how we - salvage’n’all, and - and you wanna get - aren’t you going a bit fast now, yourself?”

“Dear, I think I told you before, the only thing I regret is that we - I wasted so much time. I’m going to make good use of _any_ moment now that’s granted to us. So, will you allow me to - propagate our salvation further - ehm, soulmate, you know, eh, immerse myself into you once more - or ...” Crowley leaned back, involuntarily, because the shine from Aziraphale’s twinkling eyes proved to be too much even for his blessed eyes. “Or would you generously allow me to rather ensheath myself onto you for the first time? Because, frankly, my love, you are a treat I’m not going to deny myself ever again.“

Crowley took in the sight of his Angel eyeing him hungrily, besotted and overwhelmed. He reclined onto the pillows, moaning consent, watching his Angel leanforward. These lips! Not in the deepest pits of hell would he ever be able to forget these lips! Aziraphale kissed him sweetly, intensely, as before, but with a clearly perceptible craving for _more_. And true, he broke from the kiss, slowly, only to look at his tousled Demon, and there was the most propitious smile Crowley had ever seen on his Angel’s expressive face. A sigh clenched his chest, as he watched his Love kiss a path from his neck to his abdomen. His back eased into the tartan of the pillows and he felt his Angel kiss a trail towards his groin, the sigh leaving his lungs to make room for a whimpering intake of breath as he felt his corporation rise anew to the kisses and hums of angelic approval. In awe he viewed these fair curls shiver in expectant exhilaration, these perfectly manicured hands steadying themselves on his hips and thighs. Heard his Angel purr his rapture, his accelerated breathing vouching for their mutually soaring anticipation. He took another deep breath himself, taking in the balm of their entangled bodies. His mouth had gone dry, his whole body preparing for... 

He cried out loud, when he felt these lips, these burning hot holy soft sizzling sweet holy lips gently embracing his tip. Nothing, nothing could have ever prepared him for this. These lips, for millennia trained on savouring earth’s finest treats, now probing this new pleasure and - oh blessed providence, by the sound that vibrated from Aziraphale’s throat all through his demonic body - _loving_ what they did and got. 

“Angel! Aah, Angel, _fuck_!”, broke from his own lips, and he moaned in despair when these heavenly lips withdrew.

“Crowley, dear,” the angel tutted, and Crowley shivered as the warmth of the angel drifted around him with every word. Aziraphale looked up to him, his mouth just barely not touching his cock, his tongue licking these lush lips in promise. Their eyes locked, and a dionysian smile encompassed these plush wine-red lips and these sea-blue eyes with their island of gold.

“Crowley, my love,“ Aziraphale tutted in the softest of voices. “Not fuck. I hear, it’s _suck_ that does the trick.” 

And he did, and Crowley exploded, first with vivacious laughter for this incredible, astute angel that had been bestowed upon him, and then, ( - When these plush lips had enfolded his cock again with a smile and sparkles propulsed along his fluttering nerves, when this tongue endeared his tip, only to invite him deeper, gradually deeper into this velvety treasury of a mouth. When these pearly teeth affectionately had caressed his skin, barely scraping, and white golden shivers had gavotted on his chest. When his length was guided by the tightness of his Angel’s tongue and palate to slide further into this burning soft heat, creating whole galaxies of incandescent suns in his mind and far out in space. When he had heard himself moan and gasp beyond words and Aziraphale hum soft sighs of endearment that vibrated directly into his lovewrecked heart. When these soft cheeks had made room for him and sucked him even more down into his Love, into this ingenious angel sucking his heart right into his cock. When his hands had tangled themselves into these downy curls, and the angel‘s hums had turned into moans, too, raucous and muffled around his cock, infinitely jubilant on being seized, and his thoughts whitened. When at last he was wrung out of every reserve and helplessly bucked up into Aziraphale‘s ineffable mouth, again and again and again, his Angel taking him, wriggling his body forward to welcome his every thrust, and sucking him, sucking and kissing and sucking and - ), then, only then he exploded once more, soaking his expectant Angel, crying out loud in a language he had forgotten an aeon and a breach of faith long ago.

With glowing delight Aziraphale welcomed his ecstasy, purring his satisfaction in receiving so much affection and pleasure. He absorbed every shudder, every gust, and after Crowley’s corporation had dissolved into a trove of golden bliss he continued to caress him, licked him dry, clicking his tongue in pure indulgence on every drop, and if the dishevelled demon hadn’t just poured his heart‘s content into this gracious angel, he would have now.

Crowley felt his chest heaving, and he suddenly sobbed, held by his Angel, who kissed away his tears and his suffering, who held him tight to his chest and his loving heart, and who whispered sweet little omnia into his ear. 

And Crowley, enveloped by his glorious Angel, saw and felt everything that had come to pass, and, behold, it was good.

As the demon gradually drifted off into dreamless sleep, this new reality surpassing anything he could have ever imagined, the last sensation to commit to memory before he sank into oblivion was the certitude of Aziraphale’s embrace, and a gentle kiss to his brow.

  
The quiet night sheltered  a demon caressed by an angel, as it faded into morning to become the seventh day. And it was good. Again, at last, it was very good.

  
  


.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder if Neil Gaiman really got that deep into the evolution of thou/you, but who cares when the outcome serves my HC so perfectly?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> As always, kudos, comments and esp concrit would be immensely appreciated.


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